


If Not Happy, Then Content

by intotheblue



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Af Harry, Character Death, Domestic, Feelings, M/M, Merlin telling Harry to get his shit together, Mutual Pining, Not Harry Eggsy or Daisy though, Slow Burn, You might see it, but harry sure as shit won't, ish, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 21:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11953242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intotheblue/pseuds/intotheblue
Summary: The sky is grey and cold, the light watery and dim, when Eggsy shows up on his doorstep, clutching Daisy to his chest like a lifeline.“Harry,” he whispers when the door swings open. It’s the most broken the older man has ever heard him.. . .Or: In which Eggsy seeks Harry out in a time of need.





	If Not Happy, Then Content

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first (AO3 published) Kingsman fic! As always, I'm incredibly late to the game, but here's to hoping you enjoy it anyway! I low key slightly a little bit maybe stole the concept for this fic from my own KSS prompts (but shh I changed it around so it's fine probably) ((sorry)). Anyway, let me know what you think!

The sky is grey and cold, the light watery and dim, when Eggsy shows up on his doorstep, clutching Daisy to his chest like a lifeline.

“Harry,” he whispers when the door swings open. It’s the most broken the older man has ever heard him.

Harry ushers him in as fat rain drops begin to fall from the sky.

 

“I’m sorry,” Eggsy says miserably, hands tight around a steaming cup of tea, Daisy playing with a small plushie at his feet. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You’re always welcome here, dear boy.”

“Am I?”

The question slices Harry like a finely honed blade, cold and precise. It isn’t an unfair one. Since his return, there’s been a tension between he and his former protégé. Things haven’t been the same. He doubts they ever will be. Harry still isn’t cleared for active duty, and it grates on his nerves, making him snappish and impatient. Eggsy, for his part, still hasn’t managed to move past his supposed death. The boy had lost a great deal in his life; Harry suspects he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the rug to be pulled out from beneath him once again, for Harry to be dead.

“Of course.” Harry places his hands on his knees and leans forward, meeting Eggsy’s downcast gaze. “I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel otherwise.”

“S’okay,” Eggsy says, nearly inaudible.

Harry suspects it isn’t, but says nothing.

It’s another several minutes before either man speaks. The air is thick with _something_ , and the silence is one that Harry is hesitant to disturb. He’s beginning to think he’ll have to when something in Eggsy’s expression shifts, and it’s like a dam breaking.

“My mum,” he begins, seemingly unable to look up from his quickly cooling tea, “she was still using. I’ve tried to help her, gotten her into rehab, kept the drugs out of the house but –" Eggsy’s voice breaks and he claps a hand over his mouth.

Harry moves from his place in the armchair to Eggsy’s side on the sofa. The young man looks up in surprise when Harry’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, but he leans into the touch, as if instinctively.

“What’s happened?” Harry asks gently.

“They found her with the needle still in her arm,” Eggsy whispers. Tears begin to fall freely from his eyes, and he careens forward into Harry’s chest.

Harry wraps his arms around the boy’s shaking shoulders.

“What am I supposed to do?” Eggsy asks, voice muffled by Harry’s shirt.

Harry says nothing, only tightens his hold.

 

It’s hours later, after Harry’s given both Eggsy and Daisy something to eat, after he’s wordlessly made up the guestroom so that Eggsy won’t have to return to a chillingly empty home, that the young man speaks again.

“I’ve gotta… Harry, how do I make sure Dean can’t get her?” he asks, once again holding Daisy in his arms. The little girl likely doesn’t understand what’s happened yet, likely won’t understand for some time to come. She’s still so very young. Not unlike her brother was.

For all Harry’s failings, this he can help with. This one thing, he can do. “Eggsy, you’ve legally been your sister’s secondary guardian since the day that vile creature threatened you in my hearing. He has no ground upon which he can lay claim to her and, should he attempt to do so anyway, I have a great deal of rather persuasive reasons the court might rule against him. She’s safe, Eggsy. You both are.”

The young man looks once again close to tears. “You did that for me?” he asks softly.

 _Anything for you_ , Harry wants to say. Instead, he simply nods. For a moment, he thinks he’s about to end up with another armful of Eggsy, but instead all the strength seems to leave the young man, and he sits heavily. He holds Daisy close and allows his eyes to slip shut. After what seems like hours, Eggsy whispers, “thank you,” so quiet that Harry almost doesn’t hear it at all.

 

Days pass, and Eggsy doesn’t leave. Or rather: Eggsy goes – to the shop, to the manor, to Daisy’s nursery school – and returns, not to his own home, but to Harry’s. Despite himself, the older gentleman finds himself hoping that this is the new normal. Not the sadness in Eggsy’s eyes, never that; but his presence, the life he brings to the once quiet halls of the house on Stanhope Mews. Even in mourning, Eggsy is a revelation, a breath of fresh air.

The young man takes to caring for his sister admirably, though Harry can hardly find it in himself to be surprised. He doubts this is the first time he’s been responsible for her, though certainly the circumstances are new.

Harry, for his part, does what he can to ease Eggsy’s day to day difficulties. He ensures there’s always food in the pantry, for both Daisy and themselves, something he’d never quite managed to incorporate in his routine living alone. He also picks up baby supplies, noting the brands of the scant few products Eggsy’d brought with him that first day. He buys a few toys and books for Daisy which have ended up scattered across the living room.

Eggsy doesn’t say thank you for these things, but Harry feels his gratitude, in warm looks and silent, lingering touches. It’s more than enough.

 

It’s been two weeks when Eggsy finally begins the conversation that Harry’s been dreading. “I know I need to go, but…” And there’s something in his tone, in his eyes that give Harry pause, that makes him cling to a few tiny strands of hope.

“You don’t have to,” he says carefully. Harry won’t indebt his boy to him, but Eggsy must know he’s welcome, always.

“Yeah, I do. I can’t keep botherin’ you like this, s’not fair.” Eggsy looks more miserable with each word he forces out.

“You’re not a bother, not at all. I like having you and Miss Daisy here.” And it’s oh so painfully the truth. Harry can hardly imagine the time before his two guests began taking up space in his life. He doesn’t want to.

“You’re just sayin’ that to make me feel better.” Eggsy looks away from him, shoulders drooping in defeat. It’s clear what he expects: one more person in his life to let him down, to leave him on his own when he needs them the most.

Harry takes his hand. “Please stay. I want you to.”

Eggsy meets his gazes, searches his face for something that he must end up finding. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, okay.”

 

Another month goes by before Eggsy returns to full active field duty and accepts a mission that will take him out of London. Harry agrees whole-heartedly to look after Daisy while he’s gone, and they spend the night before going over every inch of her routine, though it’s nothing Harry doesn’t already know.

He pours them both a nightcap when they’re finished, and they settle into a comfortable silence. Harry’s grown quite fond of these moments, when Daisy’s safely settled upstairs and he and Eggsy can simply _be_. It’s the kind of peace rarely afforded to someone in their line of work.

“You’d take care of her, yeah?” Eggsy asks suddenly, looking up from the amber liquid in his glass. “If something happened to me?”

Part of Harry wants to tell him that nothing of the sort would ever be necessary, that the world could never be so cruel as to take Eggsy away from Daisy. The rest him knows that such a statement would be a boldface lie. Instead, he puts his drink down and deliberately meets Eggsy’s gaze.

“Should anything ever happen to you, dear boy, Daisy will never want for love or care or a place to call home. You both will always have that here,” he says earnestly.

Eggsy smiles at him, but the look in his eyes is indescribably sad.

“Thanks, Haz,” he says quietly, then stands abruptly. “I’d better- that is, early morning tomorrow, yeah?”

Harry nods. “Goodnight, Eggsy.”

The young man takes his leave, and Harry feels the loss of his company as keenly as he would that of a fire in the dead of winter.

 

Merlin corners him on the third day of Eggsy’s mission, when Harry’s come to the shop after dropping Daisy off to get some work done. Active duty or not, there’s always paperwork to be done.

“What’s going on with you, Harry?” he asks.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Harry replies, busying himself with gathering paperwork.

“Bollocks. You begged for _months_ to be put back on the active duty roster. And now, not a peep out of ya’?” Merlin crosses his arms and raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

Harry looks down at his hands; the right trembles finely, as it has since the day he was shot. He looks back up and meets Merlin’s hard stare. “Perhaps it’s time I retire from all of this, old friend.”

Merlin snorts. “Perhaps it’s time you tell the boy how you feel.”

 

But Harry won’t. He won’t put that on Eggsy, not after everything he’s endured. Harry refuses to add to his hardship.

 

Eggsy returns from his mission tired but successful, and there’s a light in his eyes that’s been missing far too long. He greets Daisy with a sweet, smacking kiss to the cheek, and Harry with a brief hug that leaves the man reeling.

They sit down to a remarkably normal dinner, full of easy companionship; a strange little family in the strange little house on Stanhope Mews. It feels so very _right_ , and Harry can’t help but wonder at how he’d ever lived without this, how he ever might again. Sometimes he resents this feeling, curses himself for benefiting from the series of tragedies that have befallen Eggsy Unwin; but the boy looks, if not happy, then content, at least. Harry consoles himself with the knowledge that whatever Eggsy should want of him, Harry will always provide. Be it remaining in this brief moment in time forever, or allowing him to leave, never to be seen again. Harry rather hopes it never comes to the latter.

 

It’s another night, a few months later, after Harry’s settled into his new job as a Kingsman pencil pusher, and Daisy’s stopped asking when Mummy’s coming home, when Eggsy pours them both a drink and beckons Harry to the sofa. When he sits, Eggsy leans against his shoulder, facing away from him.

“Daisy’s doin’ so well,” Eggsy says, after a few beats of silence. “Her teachers say her social skills are improving, and that she seems to be processing everything that’s happened.”

Harry knows this, of course. He’s been to several of the not infrequent parent/teacher conferences with Eggsy, and a few in his stead. He says nothing.

“I think I’ve got you to thank for that. For a lot of things.”

“Eggsy…” Harry trails off, unsure of what to say.

The younger man sits up and turns to look at him. “I mean it, Harry. I wasn’t – shit, I don’t know how to say this right. I wasn’t okay, after. And you – fucking hell, what I’m trying to say is I couldn’t’ve done any of this, Kingsman, Daisy, _survive_ without you. You just… thank you, Harry.” Eggsy’s head tips forward, as if of its own volition, and lands on his shoulder. “Not a lot a’people’ve stuck around for me, Harry. Ain’t many I can count on,” he mumbles. His hand lands on Harry’s thigh, just above his knee. “Thank you,” he says again.

Harry wouldn’t’ve said anything, except the alcohol’s burning his throat and he’s feeling particularly masochistic tonight and it just slips out.

“I would’ve thought there was more blame than thanks for me to shoulder,” he whispers, and the words hang heavy between them.

“Harry?” Eggsy leans back to meet his gaze.

Guilt burns low in his stomach, an overly familiar sensation. “Your father-" he begins, only to be cut off.

“Fuckin’ hell, ‘Arry, I don’t blame you for that! He made that choice on his own, and if it means you’re alive today? I can live with it. It weren’t your fault then, and it ain’t now.” The conviction in Eggsy’s voice is shocking, and were it over any other subject, Harry was sure he’d be willing to take anything the young man said at face value.

“If it weren’t for me-"

“If it weren’t for you, I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere. I’m happy, Harry. This? You, me ‘n Dais? It ain’t what I pictured, but it’s enough. It’s enough.” His hand rests on Harry’s. “Blame yourself all you want, but I never will.”

And somehow, Harry believes him.

 

It’s a year before Harry finally catches on to what all of the casual touches they share mean; a year before he realizes that Eggsy’s fingertips never brush against Roxy’s cheek when she’s got a stray biscuit crumb, that he never leans up against Merlin when everyone gathers for their recently instated game night. In his defense, Eggsy’s also rather tactile with Daisy, though not in the same ways.

Harry’s known how he feels for a very long time, but the thought that Eggsy might return those feelings is a revelation. One he isn’t sure what to do with.

 

It’s Eggsy, in the end. Of course it is.

He’s carrying Daisy to bed after a long day of parks and ice cream, the sort that Harry never imagined he’d be privileged enough to experience.

“G’night, ‘Arry,” she says sleepily. “Love ya’,” she yawns.

“Y’ain’t the only one, Flower,” Eggsy muses. He seems unaware that he’s said it at all.

He disappears up stairs for half an hour, likely reading Daisy a bedtime story before carefully tucking her in and turning the light out. In the meantime, Harry paces. He pours himself a drink, then pours it out. He pours another and downs it. By the time Eggsy returns, he’s sitting calmly in his armchair, having nearly convinced himself that his organs weren’t in the process of liquefying.

So caught in his own machinations is Harry that he doesn’t see the carefully neutral expression on Eggsy’s face, the one that generally belays anxiety or fear.

“Harry,” he says, and it sounds like perhaps it’s not the first time.

He looks up.

Eggsy chews on his lip, looks Harry briefly in the eye, the drops his gaze to his feet. “I’m gonna try somethin’,” he says. “And if I’m wrong, just forget it, yeah? It don’t have to change anything, I promise.”

With that, Eggsy brings a hand to Harry’s face, caresses his cheek and leans in. His eyes drop to Harry’s lips, and he pauses a scant moment before closing the distance.

Harry’s kissed a great many people in his life, and none have compared to the beauty of this. This kiss is home and warmth and _love_ and everything Harry’s ever wanted to feel for another. It takes him no time at all to respond, trying to pour everything into the sweet slide of lips and tongue. His hands find their way to Eggsy’s waist, and his grip is almost certainly bruising. Any thoughts he may’ve had about that disappear when knees are planted on either side of his thighs, and he suddenly finds himself with a lapful of Eggsy.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Eggsy breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against Harry’s. Both men pant, but Harry’s hands remain firm on Eggsy’s waist, and Eggsy’s fingers card continuously through Harry’s thick hair.

“Fuck,” Eggsy whispers harshly. “Been wanting to do that for ages.”

“My dear boy,” Harry sighs, and pauses, just long enough to see doubt begin to worm its way into Eggsy’s expression. “I’m so very glad you did.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

This time, Harry bridges the gap between them, and it’s no less perfect than their first.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I'm kind of considering making a second part from Eggsy's point of view, maybe with a epilogue? Let me know if that's something you'd be interested in!
> 
> Visit me on Tumblr at pomegranatepusher!


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